


You are my Sunshine

by spitfire123



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, WoR drabbles that are supposed to be read together and in order, World of Ruin, also a tad bit of ignis pov but only in one chapter, chapter 13 spoilers, endgame spoilers, established promptio, gladio pov for the most part, no beta we die like writers, one prompto chapter, promptioweek18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-05-28 16:43:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15053501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spitfire123/pseuds/spitfire123
Summary: Prompto would forever be his guiding light in a world of darkness, no matter what happened.





	1. A Crownsguard's Duty

**Author's Note:**

> Let me just start this off by saying thank you to those who will actually read this!
> 
> I don't really write a whole lot, so I was a little nervous posting this, especially for a game that I just finished playing, but I've decided I'm not going to wimp out. 
> 
> So here it is, my contribution to Promptio Week! I hope you guys like it!

The roaring of the train is loud in Gladio’s ears, but only because everyone else is so quiet, isolated in their own bubble of grief.

He doesn't know his next steps. He’d always followed the path that had been set for him since birth, trusting and fulfilling his duties as the Shield as best he could, but now that life is nonexistent and he has no idea what to do. What good was a shield without a king to protect? Weak, he’d been too weak to keep Noct safe.

He’d failed to do the one thing he was trained to do. He’d failed, and now he had no idea what to do with himself.

But he can’t just sit around and wait until Noct gets back. He can’t, and he’s not just going to sit here and feel sorry for himself. It’s been two weeks they’ve waited at the side of the crystal, hoping that he’d find his way out, but he knows better. He has to keep moving, keep fighting, because otherwise he’s a hypocrite, because otherwise he’s useless.

And that’s why, in the middle of the train car, he drops to the ground and starts with diamond push ups. Ignis jolts awake when he hears Gladio hit the floor, but Prompto’s there with a reassuring pat and whispered words, and Gladio goes back to his pushups.

It’s quiet again, only the train and his huffed breath, and he continues until Prompto stops him with his voice, soft and lifeless.

‘It’s okay to cry.’ He says, and when Gladio meets his gaze, he meets cold steel, unwavering emotion. Gladio’s been crying the whole time. The whole trip back he’s had tears trailing down his face, and he’s only now coming to acknowledge them. He doesn’t want to think about it.

‘It’s okay to feel, Gladio. It’s okay to mourn.’ Prompto, sweet and caring Prompto is calling out to him, and Gladio snaps.

‘I’m not fucking mourning because he isn’t fucking _dead_.’ He spits out as he stands to his full height, towering over a seated Prompto. But Prompto doesn’t react. He just stares numbly at his feet.

This conversation isn’t worth his time. He needs to fight. He needs to keep moving forward. He doesn’t have time to mourn. 

So he doesn’t. He moves to the next train car over and starts doing his push ups once again.

* * *

He’s exhausted when he lays down in one of the beds in the sleeper car. It’s not the most comfortable thing out there, but it’ll do.

He’s just barely drifting off when the door to his room slides open, and he’s as alert as ever as someone shuffles inside. For a second he thinks it’s Ignis, and he’s about to tell him to go find another room before the bed dips under the weight of the small body that sits on the side. Calloused hands pull his hair away from his face, slowly running fingers down his jaw and across his stubble. A kiss is pressed to his temple, dry and chapped and soft, as if he might break. Gladio’s just now realizing how selfish he’s been.

Prompto starts to pull back, but Gladio grabs at his arm, silently urging him to stay. It works, and Prompto is sinking in behind Gladio’s brawny back, wrapping an arm around his midsection. He can feel the wetness of Prompto’s cheeks as he buries his face in the back of Gladio’s neck, nosing at the hair that is stuck there.

‘Why?’ Gladio whispers to him, with a million questions in mind but decides to let Prompto answer it however he pleases. The arm around his torso tightens.

‘I wanted to make sure you were okay.’ It’s quiet, and Gladio knows it’s a lie. He rests his own arm over Prompto’s, thumbing at the soft skin of his forearm. He knows it’s a lie.

‘Are you okay?’ It’s simple, but such a simple question pulls a sob from Prompto. There’s a new rush of hot tears in Gladio’s hair, and Prompto convulses in shivers and half-chokes.

It’s minutes before Prompto speaks again, but when he does, Gladio opts to listen wholeheartedly. He made the mistake of not listening with Noct, and he’s not going to do it again with Prompto.

‘I wanted to see you.’ He squeaks out past shudders. ‘I - In Zegnautus, when I was there, I thought-’ Prompto buries his face into the crook of Gladio’s neck, and the words are mumbled against his hair. ‘I thought I’d never see you guys again. And if we did meet again, I - I was so s - scared that you wouldn’t want me.’

Gladio doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t think that’s the end, just a pause, but suddenly Prompto is pulling himself away from Gladio’s back to sit on the side of the bed again. Gladio lets him, but keeps his hand on Prompto’s forearm, small reassurances to let him know he’s really there, that he’s listening.

‘It’s all my fault, y’know?’ Prompto whispers, almost too softly for Gladio to hear. But he does, and he’s not sure how to respond to that. He knows it’s not Prompto fault, Six above, he knows that. He just doesn’t know what to say, and he waits too long because Prompto’s pulling away from him, closing in on himself and shutting Gladio out. He’s pulling at his hair like he means to yank it out, like he’s trying to punish himself.

‘If I hadn’t been so stupid. If I hadn’t been so _weak_.’ Prompto keeps muttering, more to himself than Gladio at this point. But he can see Prompto breaking in front of him, and he has to stop this.

‘Prompto.’ He calls, and when he turns towards Gladio, his eyes are red. He reaches up to brush some of his tears away, but the moment he does, more fall in their place. ‘It’s not your fault.’

‘But it _is_ .’ He sobs. ‘It _is_ my fault. All my fault. I’m so worthless. If I wasn’t such a _failure_.’ Prompto spits out, moving to scratch at his tattooed wrist, but Gladio sits up to take his hands, holding them instead.

‘Sunshine,’ He says, looking Prompto in the eye. ‘None of this is your fault. Absolutely none of it. I promise you that.’ Prompto’s lower lip quivers as he turns his hands to hold Gladio’s, twining their fingers together.

‘I’m sorry.’ Prompto says, looking anywhere but Gladio. Gladio doesn’t understand what he’s apologizing for.

‘Don’t be. You have nothing to be sorry about.’ And then Gladio sinks back into the bed and pulls Prompto down with him. Prompto wraps himself around Gladio tightly, like there’s a chance the Gladio might disappear and leave him too. They fall asleep like that, cradling one another.

* * *

He wakes up to the smell of food. Prompto’s already gone from his side, so he takes his time waking up. It’s still dark outside, but he needs to get used to it. It will be dark until Noct returns, and none of them know when that will be.

Sooner rather than later, he hopes.

He moves into the dining car, and Prompto’s there, tiredly standing against the stove over a pan of eggs. He looks absolutely wiped, and his cheeks are tearstained like he’d been crying ever since last night. Gladio moves to wrap an arm around his waist, resting his chin atop Prompto’s blond hair when he jumps.

‘Good morning sunshine.’ He whispers, and Prompto snorts. He melts back into Gladio’s chest after he turns off the burner. ‘Smells good.’

‘’S nothing special.’ They stand like that, embracing each other tightly. It’s a nice quiet moment between the two of them before Gladio pulls back.

‘Where’s Ignis?’ Gladio asks, furrowing his brow slightly when Prompto’s shoulders sink.

‘Iggy’s still-’ Prompto stops to swallow, and Gladio catches him eying the door to the next passenger car. ‘He’s still where he was yesterday. He hasn’t moved. I tried to get him up an hour ago, but he just laid there.’ He sets the pan down, and Gladio can see the tired lines on his face as Prompto turns to press his head into Gladio’s chest. ‘He’s been crying all night, but nothing I said helped. I don’t know what to do.’ _I’m worthless_ Prompto’s voice echoes in Gladio’s mind. He strokes down Prompto’s back, trying his best to wish away the horrible thoughts he knows are plaguing Prompto’s mind.

‘He’s just upset.’ Gladio says, but Prompto shakes his head where it’s tucked into Gladio’s chest. ‘Give him time to process it-’

‘He hasn’t moved, Gladio. Saying he’s upset is kinda an understatement.’ Prompto says. ‘He hasn’t eaten in two days either.’ He pulls away slightly to press their foreheads together. Gladio understands. The intimacy is nice, but from this close, Gladio can see the dark bags under Prompto’s eyes and his lip quivering minutely. Prompto looks defeated.

‘I don’t know what I’m supposed to do Gladio.’ Prompto’s eyes slide shut. ‘What can I even do?’ It hurts Gladio to see him like this, subdued and unsure, doubting everything with no sense of the optimism he once had, even if it had been faked. Gladio doesn't know the answer, and he doesn't know what they should do yet.

The answer, though, comes in a moment of clarity among a sea of dark thoughts, and suddenly Gladio knows what they can do, what they must do. Cor’s voice echoes somewhere in his mind, bringing memories from a time Gladio can barely remember.

_‘The Crownsguard has been redirected to oversee the protection of all citizens of Lucis.’_ Cor had said. He knows what he must do.

‘It’s time to protect Lucis.’ He says, and Prompto stares up at him with big blue eyes, and suddenly he has the strength to continue. ‘The people that gave up so much for us. It’s time to pay them back.’

_Yeah,_ he thinks, _Noct would want this._ And that thought and the blond in his arms give him the strength to continue on, illuminating a path for him to follow once more.


	2. Search and Rescue

The kid’s cute, Gladio thinks. Young but not naive, optimistic. When she smiles, her two front teeth are missing, and she reminds him of how Iris when she was that age.

She’s not smiling now though, hasn’t since they rescued her, the sole survivor of an outpost in Duscae. It should’ve been a basic search and rescue mission, that’s what the hunter board told him. But everything that could’ve gone wrong did, and now Gladio’s sitting at a haven with only one child when he should’ve been able to save a dozen others. Prompto’s across the fire from him, picking lazily at a half full can of beans before he decides just to put it down for good. Gladio thinks he should finish it. Lestallum’s slowly but surely running out of food, but he can’t get up the nerve to say anything.

Prompto meets his gaze, and he shoots Gladio a haggard grin back, nodding towards the small girl curled up in Gladio’s arms.

‘Seems like you got quite the admirer.’ His joke runs flat, both of them too tired and upset to really say much more. Gladio looks down at the child resting in his lap. He’s overcome with emotion.

If Prompto sees his tears, he doesn’t say anything. Thunder cracks somewhere in the distance. If he looks hard enough, he can see Lestallum’s bright lights. His voice breaks when he tries to speak. She’s so small in his arms, dirty and starving, and Gladio feels like he might break her if he moves.

‘Look at her Prom.’ Prompto looks up from where he’s lying on the haven rock. The firelight plays across his features beautifully. ‘No one should have to go through this, especially not a child.’

‘I know, big guy, I know.’ Prompto says as he rises to his knees, shuffling around the campfire until he’s kneeling next to Gladio. His gaze is locked on the child, brushing some of her blonde hair out of her mouth where it had landed when Gladio had jostled her as he sat. ‘But she survived.’ And when he meets Prompto’s gaze, it’s all light. He gives Gladio a ghost of a smile, sliding closer to rest his head against Gladio’s shoulder. ‘She survived and now she’s here. She’s so strong Gladio.’

They stayed still like that for a bit longer, relaxing into one another until the child in Gladio’s arms starts to squirm awake. When her eyes open, she looks up towards Gladio.

‘How are you doing pumpkin?’ Prompto asks from his side, and the child looks towards him instead. She just stares at Prompto, and Gladio is starting to think that she might not speak when her voice finally kicks in.

‘Where’s my kitty?’

‘Your what?’

‘My stuffed animal. His name is Lucy. He’s a pink cat.’ She giggles as she says it, like it’s some big inside joke. Gladio’s heart melts a little in his chest. Prompto looks confused.

‘I don’t remember seeing a cat at the extraction point.’ He says, looking towards Gladio for guidance. ‘Maybe he got lost?’ The child in his arms looks absolutely devastated.

‘You have to find him! Mama said it was important to keep him safe!’ She’s tearing up now, clutching at Gladio’s shirt. ‘Please, please, you gotta find him!’ Gladio sees Prompto’s jaw set out of the corner of his eye, and he sets a firm hand on Prompto’s shoulder in an attempt to discourage the other.

‘ _Prompto_.’ He hisses under his breath, but he can tell that Prompto has already made up his mind. He gives Gladio a half grin.

‘I’ve gotta. You heard the little lady, he’s _important_.’

‘ _Prom._ ’

‘I’ll be back in a jiffy, Gladio. Just wait for me.’ As Prompto stands, Gladio lays the girl down on the rock of the haven to rise with him.

_‘Sunshine_ ,’ He whines, laying a hand on his shoulder and spinning him around to face him. ‘You don’t have to do this. Please don’t do this.’

‘Gladdy, I’ve been in my fair share of fights and survived, and we killed most of the daemons anyways. I’ll be fine. It’ll take less than an hour. Trust me.’ And there are those puppy eyes, looking at him so hopefully, like Prom needs permission to do anything. If this is his choice, Gladio has to learn to respect it, even if he hates the idea of him going of on his own.

Gladio slides his hands up from Prompto’s shoulder to curl around his jaw, placing a soft kiss on his lips before pulling back. He unhooks one of the emergency flares from his belt and hands it over to Prompto.

‘If anything happens..’ - _I won’t be able to forgive myself. For not being with you. For not protecting you. I can’t lose another-_

‘Nothing’s gonna happen, big guy. I've got this.’ Prompto pulls him down for one more kiss before he descends from the haven into the darkness.

* * *

An hour passes, and then two, and just when Gladio’s ready to grab his greatsword and set off towards the extraction point himself, Prompto reappears. He’s limping as he makes his way up the ramp to the haven, and Gladio’s at his side in an instant, pulling him into a tight hug. It’s only then that he realizes that Prompto’s holding a pink stuffed cat against his chest.

‘So you actually found it?’ Gladio asks, and Prompto tosses the stuffed animal to the child. They both watch as she hugs it close.

‘Of course I did. Did you really doubt me?’ On the front, it's teasing, but Gladio knows that deep down, Prom's looking for validation that he did alright. 

‘No doubt, just worried.’ Gladio says, and Prompto's smile is weak but genuine. ‘I’m allowed to be worried, but you did good.’

‘Thanks Gladdy.' He says, and his smile gets stronger and brighter instantly. 'Finding that cat was very much worth it.’ Gladio gives him a look, and Prompto’s grin never wanes. He pulls what looks like a small pill bottle from one of his cargo pockets and hands it to Gladio. There’s no label on the bottle and Gladio is confused until Prompto hands him a folded up sheet of paper. It’s all handwritten in neat cursive, with the key premise being the cultivation of plants in near to total darkness, what plants do well without sun, which do well with LED lights, and which crops can be farmed for a near instant turnaround. These notes right here are, quite possibly, everything they need to sustain Lestallum's growing population for years to come.

‘That’s a bottle of the fastest growing beans in all of Lucis. It was all hidden in that cat. There’s more too.’ And Gladio looks up from the one sheet to find Prompto holding at least a dozen handwritten research notes. He holds one out to Gladio. ‘This one is about a new crop rotation specifically for night-based farming.’ He holds up another, grinning like the sun. ‘This one is about medicinal herbs and alternative forms of medicine, and this one’s about mass producing fertilizer without having to synthesize nitrogen, and this-’

‘Prom.’ Gladio says, and Prompto stops babbling instantly, nervously shuffling his feet like he did something wrong. It hurts Gladio to see him look so dejected. Prompto might’ve literally just saved Lestallum from starvation, and he still looks like a dog with his tail between his legs. ‘Sunshine, these are actually incredible.’ And just like that, Prompto’s face lights up in a brilliant smile.

'I try' He says, and Gladio wraps a thick arm around Prompto's shoulders.

‘Is your leg okay to travel? We need to get back to Lestallum as soon as possible.’ Prompto snorts at the mention of his leg and leans into Gladio’s side, watching the child with a soft smile.

‘I was so interested in the notes that I tripped over my own two feet. It's okay though, just sprained.’ Gladio doesn’t believe that for a second, but he nods all the same, giving Prompto a kiss to the temple.

‘I’ll wrap it and then we gotta get going. We have a long trek back to Lestallum.’

* * *

‘Um, Mister Sunshine?’

‘Yes pumpkin?’

‘Lucy says thank you for getting him back.’

‘You’re very welcome Lucy.’

‘And I say thank you for saving me.’

‘And you’re very welcome sweetheart.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can pry smart!Prompto and hyperactive-impulsive-adhd!Prompto from my cold dead hands.
> 
> Also thanks for all the feedback!


	3. A Lesson in Machinery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've said it before, but I'll say it again: you can pry smart/ADHD!Prompto from my cold dead hands. Also Gladio is kinda thirsty, so just be aware of that.
> 
> And thanks again for all the feedback!! All kudos and comments are loved!!!

‘You want me to do what now?!’ Prompto says through a mouthful of breakfast hashbrowns, staring at him as if he had grown a second head. Ignis was scolding him from the kitchen, telling him to chew and swallow before speaking, but Prompto just continued to gape at Gladio instead.

Gladio grunted. ‘Your ears work Prompto. You heard me just fine.’

‘I mean, yeah, I heard you but like - I don’t know - where is this coming from?’ Prompto swallowed his food and glanced back towards Ignis before fixing Gladio with another confused look. ‘And why? Y’know, machinery is kinda my thing, just like you’ve got giant fucking swords, and Iggy has magical dagger things, and like - I don’t know, I guess I’m just confused.’ Prompto gives him that nervous look, hesitant and tense. Gladio sighs and moves to hold Prompto’s hand over the table, noting the insistent blush that’s covering his cheeks. No matter hold long they’ve been together Prompto never seems to keep that blush in check, and it’s adorable.

‘Yeah, I got that.’ He mumbles, rubbing the back of Prompto’s hand in quick even strokes of his thumb, and, somewhere in the back, Ignis chuckles quietly to himself. ‘But I meant what I said. I want you to teach me. And it might be fun to blast some daemons with those crazy machines of yours.’

Prompto laces their fingers together and smiles softly, eyes crinkling at the corners.

‘You got it, big guy!’

* * *

 _I want you to watch me carefully, okay?_ Prompto had said as he brandished a screwdriver, and now Gladio understood why he insisted as such.

In front of him had to be at least fifty different parts of a bioblaster and a hundred screws, and Gladio doesn’t know where to start. Prompto was looking at him expectantly.

‘A machinery weapons user needs to know their weapons inside and out.’ Prompto says, and Gladio blanches when he sets the screwdriver in front of him. ‘Put it back together.’ He just looks between the screwdriver and Prompto, and finally decides to reach for a piece.

He’s just starting to screw it onto the main frame of the bioblaster when Prompto says ‘Nope!’ with a popping noise on the ‘p’. Gladio frowns.

He tries at least another ten parts on the same spot, each ending in Prompto’s small _nope_ and serving to make Gladio all the more frustrated. It’s only when Prompto giggles that Gladio glances up, taking in the cheeky smile. He looks thoroughly amused, propping his chin on his hand on the other side of the table. He reaches out to take the screwdriver from Gladio.

‘I’m just teasing you babe. You should’ve seen your face!’ He says, giving Gladio a sly grin as he picks the correct piece from the pile and screws it on. ‘This specific piece is part of the barrel.’

It takes him all of five minutes to reassemble the bioblaster, and Gladio’s never going to look at a piece of machinery the same way again. But he’d gladly stare at those fingers all day if he could, deft and slender, and now covered in grease.

* * *

There’s a dark grease stain across Prompto’s forehead, but that only makes his smile the more endearing as he hands Gladio a gravity well. A couple of cones are set up down the firing range, positioned in a diamond shape with enough room for him to shoot the gravity well into and hopefully pull all four cones together. That’s the goal anyway, and Prompto tells him as much.

Gladio preps the machine just like Prompto taught him to do, releasing the safety and hoisting the machine up with his arms. It’s a lot heavier than Gladio realized.

He flips the switch to let the gun charge before firing it at the cones, and if he didn’t have his feet planted as firmly as he did he would’ve been thrown back several feet. This time he was only thrown back a couple of inches.

He was feeling pretty good about his first try until he hears snorts from Prompto and looks at where the gravity ball landed. It’s six feet in front of Gladio and the cones don’t look affected at all.

‘Try not shooting it at the ground this time, alright big guy?’ And Prompto moves in, readjusting his stance a little, forcing him down into an even deeper squat and tilting the end of the machine up slightly. He lets his hands trail over Gladio’s shoulders, and it sends a shiver down Gladio’s spine. ‘You want, at this distance, about thirty six degrees above the horizontal.’ Prompto says quietly, as if muttering to himself before nodding at Gladio to continue, and Six, is Prompto doing physics in his head? That’s fucking hot.

Being under the intense gaze of his partner has his cheeks heating. The stance is a strain on Gladio’s forearms and quads, but he flips the switch again and fires, managing to get three of the four cones in one gravity ball. The kickback isn’t nearly as bad with his modified stance.

Prompto smiles a big cheeky smile as he slaps Gladio’s ass. ‘That’s what I’m talking about!’ As he waits for the gravity ball to subside he pulls Gladio into a kiss, chaste and quick, and then he’s resetting the cones in a different position. Gladio’s pretty sure his whole face is red at this point.

Prompto has him repeat the process of shooting the gravity well several times, changing his angle and stance when he misses and rewarding him with short kisses when he hits his mark. It’s wonderful and sappy, and everything Gladio has ever wanted.

* * *

When they return to their shared apartment, Ignis is nowhere to be found. It’s late, and Gladio’s body is sore as hell because _holy shit,_ machinery is fucking _heavy._

‘Iggy?’ Prompto calls. When there’s no answer, he shrugs. Gladio just wants to kiss him again, deeper than they had been at the range, so he moves in while Prompto is still babbling. ‘I guess the board needed him for something.’ Gladio places a firm hand on Prompto’s shoulder, and he goes silent as Gladio’s other hand comes around to tilt his face up.

‘Can I kiss you?’ He whispers, close enough to feel Prompto’s breath on his lips, close enough to count every freckle on that blushing face if he wanted. Prompto smiles.

‘You know you don’t have to ask.’ He whispers back, and those big blue eyes are looking up at him again. Slender arms are pulling Gladio down, wrapping tightly around his shoulders, and his hands are playing with the hair at the nape of Gladio’s neck. When their lips finally meet, all the tension and the pain in Gladio’s muscles melts away.

And then the kiss ends, and Prompto’s got his mouth around Gladio’s lower lip, eyes hooded in lust. His hands leave Gladio’s shoulders to push firmly at his chest, leading Gladio backwards towards the door of their bedroom. When his back hits the door, Prompto pulls him down into a flurry of kisses, all tongue and teeth and no finesse.

‘Holy fuck Prom.’ He whines between kisses, and his mind wanders to all the times Prompto surprised him that day, the times that Prompto really turned him on. Prompto responds by keening low in his throat. ‘You’re a fucking genius. So fucking smart.’ He’s shuddering beneath Gladio, pulling away from the kiss to fumble with the door. Gladio works on his neck instead, puffing hot breaths onto his pulse point before kissing along his throat. ‘Fucking brilliant.’

‘Stop, you're so embarrassing - ’ Prompto breaks into a drawn out whine as Gladio sucks his earlobe. His hands reach down to run underneath Prompto’s shirt, watching the way he hisses through his teeth when Gladio pinches a nipple. Prompto’s hand is still on the doorknob, and Gladio reaches down to help him open it, pulling the two of them inside while Prompto whimpers underneath his fingers.

‘You took apart a bioblaster in three minutes,’ Gladio whispers, reveling in the shudders he pulls from Prompto. ‘And you put it back together in five.’ His hands reach for Prompto’s belt, grinning at the way he bucks into them eagerly. ‘The way you hit marks with a fucking gravity well is by doing math in your fucking _head_ , Prom.’ He pops the button on Prompto’s jeans and slides his hand down the front, watching with amusement and Prompto squirms.

‘I - It’s not hard once you - oh!’ His statement ends in a gasp as Gladio pulls their hips together.

‘Stop selling yourself short, sunshine. You’re amazing.’ And he knows the praise is starting to sink in because Prompto goes limp against his chest, canting his hips towards Gladio.

And he means it with all his heart. Prompto is amazing and brilliant, his light in the darkness.

* * *

The next time Prompto goes down, Gladio isn’t close enough to do anything.

All he really hears in the darkness is the sound of wind forcefully leaving Prompto’s lungs and the weight of a machine crashing into the ground next him. When he turns, the flashlight that Prompto wears is illuminating an iron giant above him, its arm raised and ready to strike.

It’s at least seventy-five feet to Prompto. He’s too far away, he won’t make it in time even if he runs. He hears Prompto yell.

It’s like something in his brain flips a switch, and he’s hauling up the gravity well before he can realize what’s going on. He doesn’t let it charge, he doesn’t have the time. He nearly forgets all his training when he pulls the trigger, just barely catching himself before he’s blown back a couple inches.

The shot itself is garbage, a weak ball of gravity landing next to the giant’s feet, but it’s enough to knock it off-balance, giving Prompto enough time to scramble towards Gladio on his hands and knees.

He’s probably fifty feet away now, crawling through the mud, but Gladio can see the iron giant recovering behind him, nothing but a silhouette against Prompto’s illuminated form. So he squats, prepping the gravity well, tilting the barrel up just enough, charging and firing just like Prompto taught him.

The shot flies over Prompto’s head and lands just behind the iron giant, effectively pulling it away from Prompto. It’s a nearly perfect shot, trapping the daemon and leaving Prompto free.

Gladio drops the weapon and runs to Prompto’s side, helping him stand up, noting the flinches and whimpers and the way Prompto’s arm is clutching his chest.

‘Are you okay?’ Gladio asks, but Prompto looks like he can’t speak. He’s hunched over, staring at the ground and struggling to breath. There’s a good fifteen seconds left on the gravity ball, and the daemon is still writhing around, so Gladio has time. He finally has time.

‘Prompto, you need to answer me.’ He’s pleading now, the feeling of panic working its way through his veins, but when Prompto finally looks up from the ground, it starts to ebb.

‘I think my ribs are broken.’ He hisses out, bunching his hands in his shirt. And it’s fine, Gladio can work with that.

‘Which side? Am I going to need to carry you?’ He asks quickly, watching the daemon squirm from the corner of his eye. Prompto heaves in a short breath and grimaces instantly.

‘My right, and yeah.’ Gladio nods and kneels in front of Prompto. They have five seconds to get set before the daemon is released, so he hefts Prompto up in a piggyback carry and takes off, running through the mud towards the light of a nearby outpost.

Prompto is hissing and groaning in pain, arms wrapped tightly around Gladio’s neck. Gladio feels a soft breath pass over his throat, then a half-hearted chuckle.

‘Nice shot, big guy.’ He says, and Gladio would’ve smiled if he wasn’t sprinting away from the fight. ‘Form needs work though.’ Prompto’s breath catches as the uneven terrain forces jolts of agony from his sides, but he recovers quickly. ‘Was it fun like you thought it would be?’

‘Yes, now quiet. Can’t talk and run.’ Gladio can barely breath between the running and the panic. Prompto smiles against his neck. The daemon is still behind them somewhere, shaking the ground with every step. They’re going to need new weapons, but what matters is that they’re both on their way to safety, and still very much alive.


	4. Fields of Flowers

The field of flowers was a recurring scene in his dreams, sidled by oceans of pure blue, and graced with the presence of a sun he hadn’t seen in years. It comforts him like the gardens at the Citadel used to, but somewhere at the back of his mind he knows this isn’t real. The smell of the lavender is faint, but Gladio hasn’t seen a fresh flower since the sun went down for the last time. There’s no space to plant flowers in Lestallum.

But the laughter brings him back, and Iris is sitting next to him, basking in the sun like a flower herself. She’s bright and vibrant and happy, and Gladio can’t help but pull her into a crushing hug. He hasn’t seen her this carefree since before the Fall.

Behind him, his mother and father sip tea among a patch of lilies, the flowers of his mother’s name. It's nice to have his family with him again, surrounded by flowers and sun.

But in a split second, everything changes.

The flowers and the ocean are no more, his mother and father and Iris are gone, and his mouth tastes like ash. It feels like a haze has fallen over his thoughts. His body is frozen and he can’t breath.

He's in Zegnautus and before him is the crystal, the very thing that stole his life from him. It’s got Prompto now too, just as it had taken Noct before him, and he's struggling and shouting for help. He’s reaching for Gladio, eyes wide and terrified, and he wishes desperately to grab that lithe hand, pull him out of that stupid stone, but his whole body is rigid, motionless. He hasn’t taken a breath in what feels like minutes, and his whole vision is swimming before he realizes the tears in his eyes.

As it swallows up the tips of Prompto’s fingers, the spell that was keeping his movements at bay is broken. He is free to move, but Prompto is already gone. Somewhere in the back of his mind he hears Ravus’ voice, mocking and malicious, but the words from that memory are all but forgotten.

He collapses on the grate floors of Zegnautus. He could do nothing. He was weak, and now the crystal has taken his light from him as well, just like it had taken his life when it took Noctis. Weak. Weak. _Weak_.

He jolts awake, sitting up ramrod straight as his breathing quickens at the absolute darkness. Prompto makes a groan of protest from his right as he’s jostled, but Gladio is already scrabbling at the zipper of the tent. It’s too hot, too hot. He needs to get out.

He finally gets it open after three tries, and the cold night air greets him. He crumbles to his knees just outside the tent, hand pressed over his constricted chest. His heart jumps underneath his hand, and his lungs can’t get enough air in. It’s too much. He feels like he’s going to throw up.

There’s a soft click, and light floods his vision. It’s the electric lantern, he knows it, but the light is burning his eyes. He still can’t breath.

‘Are you okay big guy?’ It’s Prompto. He knows it’s Prompto, but he can’t speak. It takes all his concentration not to vomit. He stares at the never-ending darkness that is the sky.

His hand is lifted from his chest, and then he can feel Prompto’s heartbeat under his palm, slow and steady. ‘Breath Gladiolus. I’m right here with you.’ When he takes a stuttering breath, Prompto squeezes his hand. ‘That’s it, baby, you’re doing so well.’

It takes a minute for his breathing to even out, two for his heart to stop palpitating, and three for the tears to start to fall. But Prompto is there, holding his hand and wiping the tears from his cheeks.

‘I’ve got you, baby.’ He says, and he presses a kiss to Gladio’s scarred knuckles. His free hand is stroking through his hair, and Gladio can finally see past the darkness. He can see his sunshine.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Gladio shakes his head, and bites his lower lip when it starts to quiver. Prompto is quick to remedy this. ‘That’s okay, Gladio, it’s alright.’ His hand is caressing Gladio’s face again, rubbing over the stubble. ‘Do you want to go lay back down in the tent?’ He answers with a slight nod. It’s cold under the darkness. It reminds him of Noctis’ absence.

Gladio sits up a minute later, and, with help from Prompto, crawls back into the warmth of the tent. He settles against the inflatable sleeping pad as Prompto closes the tent back up and turns the lantern off. When he’s finished, he crawls over to sit near the head of the mat, pulling Gladio’s head into his lap. Prompto is all solid warmth and Gladio wraps one of his arms around his waist. His throat is dry, but he can’t bring himself to move, not with Prompto stroking through his hair with those talented fingers.

‘Prom.’ His voice comes as a croak, and Prompto rests the palm of his hand on Gladio’s cheek, eyes of blue staring down at him. His other hand is massaging small circles into Gladio’s scalp. He stays silent for a while, trying desperately to compose himself, but Prompto doesn’t push him.

‘If-’ Gladio forces himself to stop, swallowing around his own scratchy throat. ‘When the sun comes back, I want-’ His voice breaks in his chest, and he heaves a shaking breath. The tears are at his eyes again, threatening to fall, but Prompto is there to catch them when they do. ‘I want a garden’ He says at last, and Prompto hums in agreement. ‘I want to see the flowers again.’ He can feel those beautiful hands comb through his hair, lulling him back down to sleep.

‘You’ll see them again, big guy.’ _I promise._ And Gladio nods, face buried in Prompto’s thigh, breathing in the scent of dirty clothes and ashes, but he pretends they smell like lilies instead.

* * *

It’s months later and Gladio has all but forgotten the night in the tent, but, evidently, Prompto hasn’t. That’s why he’s standing here in front of Gladio, in the small living space they call their home, with a fake red rose between his teeth and a smirk on his lips. He’s wearing that nice cologne that Ignis got him for his birthday, but it’s offset by the fact he’s wearing his tacky chocobo pajamas. There’s something classical playing from the small speaker on the kitchenette counter, and Gladio can’t help the smile that graces his lips.

‘Come dance with me.’ Prompto says around the rose, and Gladio can’t help but step forward, sliding one arm around Prompto’s waist, and grasping for his hand with the other.

‘You’re such a dork.’ Gladio says, and Prompto finally reaches up to take the rose from his mouth, grinning as he throws the fake flower into a vase that Gladio didn’t even know they owned. They sway together in time with the cheesy music that sounds straight out of a rom-com.

‘You love me.’ And Gladio laughs and pulls him ever closer, resting his forehead on Prompto’s. That beautiful blush returns to Prompto’s face, highlighting every freckle and scrape and scar and Gladio just wants to kiss them all. And Prompto's right, he loves every part of this gorgeous man in his arms.

‘Yeah, yeah I do.’

Prompto’s free hand is cupping his jaw, making its way through the scruff of his beard. His eyes are on Gladio lips for an instant, and then they flick up to lock with Gladio’s. His hand slides from Gladio’s jaw to the back of his neck, slow and soft.

‘Can I kiss you?’ Prompto whispers, and, Gods, Gladio loves this man, loves him more than life itself. He would do anything for him.

He nods, and they both meet in the middle. The kiss itself is brief, a little more than a peck, but that doesn’t make it any less intimate. They part when Prompto pulls away, and Gladio watches while he clicks buttons on the speaker until a new song starts playing, something with a piano and some string instruments.

‘So, what’s with the flower?’ Gladio asks as he pulls Prompto back to his chest, twirling him around twice for good measure before bringing him in to match the rhythm of the piano piece that’s playing.

‘You said you wanted a garden right? Some flowers?’ And the night at the haven comes rushing back, and suddenly he remembers again. Panic and sadness and a hand in his hair, soothing him into a dreamless sleep. That same sadness is coming back, but Prompto’s here in his arms and he keeps it at bay.

He’s speaking again, eyes bright. ‘I thought we could start off small.’ He says. ‘Something that’s easy to take care of, because I’m pretty sure Iggy would kill any real plants we got. On accident.’ And he laughs, and Gladio’s in love all over again.

Gods, he loves this man so much it hurts his chest to think about.


	5. Frozen

The instant Prompto realized something was wrong was the instant his world turned black and white. Like an old photograph, the Lestallum market blurred around the edges and slowed to a halt.

It was the most unnerving thing he’d ever seen. His hand slipped right through Ignis’ back, where he had been guiding him along, and he stared at his hand for far too long, but no one had moved when he looked up. His gut burned with dread. He’d only seen this type of magic once before, he knew who was responsible.

‘Show yourself, daemon.’ He growled, eyes scanning through the frozen marketplace to see if he could catch a glimpse of movement. When he saw nothing, he turned back to Ignis, testing to see if his hand slipped through his body like it had the first time. It did.

A hand rested itself on his shoulder and he froze, shivering when hot air blew past his ear. He tensed when the man behind him chuckled.

‘It has been far too long, hasn’t it?’ Was all the voice said, dark and deep and malicious, and Prompto nearly cried. He balled his fist, twisting to strike at the offending arm, but when he turned, there was nothingness behind him.

The marketplace sprung back to life, vibrant and bustling. Ignis was already ten steps ahead of him, and he had to run to catch up with him.

* * *

The second time it happened was during dinner that same week, Ignis, Gladio, and Prompto all circled up around the table with a stack of empty cans and dirty spoons that they swore they would wash later. Gladio was in the middle of a joke when everything slowed, and his face froze in a jagged grin.

Prompto twitched when the hand came down on the back of his neck, too frightened to knock the hand away when it squeezed.

‘Look at the lot of you, still friends after all this time and all this tragedy.’ His head felt light. ‘I wonder how long you can all stay together like this.’ When he finally unfroze, his teeth bared slightly, a growl finding its way from his throat.

‘You think this is funny?!’ He cried, standing up quickly to face the bastard that kept messing with his brain. But he wasn’t there, just like he hadn’t been there in the market either.

‘Prom?’ Gladio was still just sitting in his chair, like nothing had happened. He looks surprised. Ignis is there too, just tilting his ear towards him to hear. ‘Sunshine, it was just a joke, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.’ Gladio’s standing now, right in from of him, but Prompto’s not sure when that happened. The room is spinning as he tips into Gladio’s chest.

His vision is still swirling when he slumps into his chair, and he leans forward to rest his head on the table, hoping that it will help and cursing when it doesn’t. Gladio’s hand is on his back, rubbing soothing circles into the muscle. Ignis stays quiet but Prompto can practically see the cogs turning in his brain.

‘Are you okay, Prompto?’ He knows that tone. He knows Iggy must be worried, but he can’t tell them, they’ll think he’s _crazy._

_But you are crazy._ A voice says. _That’s why you hear voices. You’re insane._ He locks that voice away as fast as possible, but the damage is already done.

Ignis’ hand is combing through his hair and Gladio’s rubbing his back, but it’s too much sensation. He feels violated, overloaded, and he knocks away both their hands before he throws up the canned green beans he’d just eaten.

* * *

It happens again and again, more times than he can count, more times than he wants to count. It’s been happening on and off for months since the first encounter in the marketplace. The words he whispers in his ear are only background noise now, it’s the physical contact of invisible hands that make him sick. He’s growing more bold by the week, and Prompto’s stomach turns uncomfortably every time he feels Ardyn’s hands on him.

He’s in the shower this time, taking it cold and quick and praying Ardyn doesn’t show up.

Time slows as he’s reaching for the faucet, and he weeps. What should he do? What _can_ he do?

Ardyn’s hand wraps around his throat proper this time, and he tries his best to struggle, but it’s in vain. Everything he does is in vain.

‘Please.’ He manages to gasp before the hand tightens, cutting off his breathing entirely. His vision is dotted black around the edges already and he just gives in, slumping down into the basin of the shower. The voice is back in his ear, hissing, and the grip on his neck is easing slightly.

‘Is that all you’ve got? Where did all that fight go? It was so fun breaking you.’ And Prompto shudders when his memories of Zegnautus come rushing back, memories of torture and restraints and betrayal, the feeling of loneliness itches at his core. He starts to cry under the cold water.

‘Just leave me alone.’ His voice comes as a whimper and he curls in on himself.

There’s one last chuckle, and suddenly Gladio’s there, pulling his crumbled form out of the bath. Gladio’s here, cradling Prompto against his chest.

‘I’m not gonna let you just sit in there freezing to death, Sunshine.’ Gladio is warm against his wet skin, and he wraps Prompto in one of their fluffiest towels. His eyes hurt, but he’s not sure why.

He’s only now aware of his own shivering, and he tries to pull the towel in closer to him, but his movements are uncoordinated and he ends up just smacking Gladio on the chest instead. Gladio squeezes the hand, pressing slow and soft kisses to each freezing finger. Then he pulls back, carrying Prompto into their apartment filled with Lestallum heat. He sets him down on the bed and pulls a blanket over his shaking body, sitting beside him to run a calloused hand through Prompto’s hair.

‘Are you okay?’ It’s a loaded question. Are anyone them really okay? They haven’t seen the sun in six years. He’s considering telling Gladio the truth, but that stupid voice is back now, the one he knows isn’t Ardyn.

_Why would anyone believe you?_ It asks. _Why would anyone care?_ It’s always been there, in the back of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to contain it. _It’s what you deserve. Worthless. Failure. Weak. Weak. We-_

‘Yeah.’ Prompto swallows, and he’s not sure whether he’s agreeing with that voice in his head or answering Gladio’s question, but the answer would be the same either way. Gladio wouldn’t believe him even if told him the truth, so why bother. Ardyn chuckles in his ear, but he’s too far gone to fight it.

* * *

It’s been ten months, and he doesn’t think he can stay quiet any longer because it hurts too much. It hurts every time Gladio asks if he’s okay in that worried voice, and it hurts even more to lie to his face. His whole life has been one giant lie, but this is the worst lie he’s ever told.

So he decides he wants to come clean and hope for the best.

He peeks his head out of the bedroom door, watching silently as Gladio reads one of his books aloud for Ignis. His voice is smooth and deep, and Ignis sits beside him, eyes closed and hands locked around a crossed knee. They look so comfortable together, happy even, and Prompto can’t bring himself to ruin that.

This past year has been the worst regression he’s ever had. All those years working towards carrying himself out of this stupid pit of depression, and yet here he is, jumping right back in. He hates it, he hates _himself,_ and he tries so hard to be better, but it’s impossible. He doesn’t want to burden them with his own stupid problems, problems he should be over by now.

So he closes the door on Gladio’s sweet voice, the smell of Ignis’ cooking, the sheer warmth of their apartment, and then he’s back in the cold dark, alone all over again.

_You don’t deserve any of this._ The voice says, and he know it’s wrong, but he’s too tired, he doesn’t have the strength to fight it any longer. So he sits on the edge of the bed and cries. He wants it to be over, but Ardyn is still there, somewhere, waiting for his chance to strike, and that scares Prompto more than anything.

He lifts a hand to pull at his hair. It’s an anxious tick he’s had since he was a kid, but it helps some. It’s better than scratching himself.

He doesn’t notice the door open or Gladio slide inside. He doesn’t see him until one of those big hands wrap around his own, pulling it away from his hair. Gladio’s here, kneeling in front of him, wiping his tears away, saying words Prompto can’t hear over his own thoughts, and Prompto only cries harder.

_I don’t deserve this_ . He thinks, _I don’t deserve any of this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh I got no witty title for this one :/ and I hope you guys enjoyed the sap while it lasted 
> 
> This chapter felt super hard to write, personally, but I hope I was able to portray how illogical depression can be sometimes. Also this chapter kinda bleeds over into the next prompt (breaking point), but only a little so the next chapter should be normal length.


	6. Breaking Point

Gladio first sees it when he’s walking alone in the marketplace, and he immediately writes it off as unnecessary and moves on. But that small piece of metal has him returning every couple of minutes and, suddenly, he needs it, and he needs it badly.

The more he stares at it, the more he needs that small band of brass. It’s only a couple hundred gil, and he has more than enough set aside to pay for it.

So he goes for it, and the lady running the stall is nice and doesn’t ask too many questions. But when the weight of the cheap metal ring is dropped into his hand, he’s suddenly doubting himself and whether he can go through with this.

And then he thinks of Prompto, his bright smile, his bubbling laugh, and, yeah, he wants this more than anything. He wants Prompto by his side forever, so he slips the ring into his pocket and smiles.

* * *

He waits at the Lestallum overlook, sitting on the bench and looking out into the night. It doesn’t scare him as much as it used to, not with Prompto’s brilliant light to guide him.

Gladio looks towards the Disc from the bench. It’s hard to see through the years of miasma, but it’s still there, shining bright blue in the darkness. It’s beautiful, he thinks, and he thumbs at the ring in his pocket. It’s made of brass, it reminds him of Prompto's hair, and he wants this so bad, the promise that they’ll both make it out of this alive.

He waits there for him until he sees Prompto trudging his way through the tunnel with his small group of recruits, and he waves to him. Prompto doesn’t smile like he used to, but they’re all tired and it’s late and he must be exhausted, so Gladio doesn’t say anything.

Prompto sinks to the bench beside him, fidgeting with his fingernails.

‘Hey sunshine.’ He says, and he leans back to wrap an arm around Prompto’s shoulders, but he pulls back when Prompto flinches. His brow furrows, and Prompto won’t look at him. It makes his gut clench, and his hands hover in front of Prompto. He wants to hug him, but he looks so scared, like a baby deer, and Gladio is beside himself with worry. ‘Prompto, is everything okay?’ Gladio swears he can hear a scoff, but Prompto’s face is so sad. He stays quiet and waits for Prompto to speak.

‘I hear him Gladio.’ He finally says. ‘I hear him all the time and it’s driving me crazy.’ Gladio is confused, and then it clicks. He must be talking about Noctis, and Gladio has heard Noctis’ voice before too. He hears him in his dreams sometimes, and when he’s awake, he’ll hear his laugh, see his smile in the face of others, and he thinks he understands.

‘We all hear Noct, Prom. We all miss him.’ Gladio watches as Prompto’s shoulders sink even lower, and his grip on his own hand tightens, pinching the skin of his thumb. He’s silent, and Gladio feels like he said the wrong thing, but he can’t take it back now. All he can do is wait and see.

‘I.. I can’t be here.’ He says, and he finally looks at Gladio. His eyes are dead and his face is pale and he looks like a shell of his former self and Gladio is suddenly terrified. Terrified to lose him to sorrow, terrified to wake up and find his reason to live is gone. ‘I need to leave Gladio. It hurts too much to be here.’

‘We can work through this.’ Gladio tries, but Prompto shakes his head, and his heart splits in two.

‘No, I - I need to do this by myself. I need to leave, I can’t stand it.’ He says again, and Gladio looks at his hands. He feels the ring in his pocket, cheaply made and polished with his spit. It burns like fire against his thigh.

‘Where are you going to go?’ He asks.

‘Hammerhead. Cindy said she’d have an extra room ready. Will you wait for me?’ He asks, and Gladio nods. He doesn't know how long he can wait, but if this is what Prompto wants, he can't stop him. 

Prompto goes to stand, but Gladio grabs his wrist to stop him. He wants to help him, wants to tell him everything's going to be okay, but when Prompto jerks away, Gladio lets go. He waits for Prompto leave, but he doesn’t, and when he looks up, he thinks Prompto is expecting something. So he fishes the ring from his pocket and stands with him.

‘Prompto Argentum.’ He says, and he holds one of Prompto’s hands open while he drops the ring into his palm and closes the others fingers over it. ‘I love you, and nothing can change that.’ And he can see the instant Prompto realizes what’s in his hand, see the moment everything behind those blue eyes break. He steps back, watching Prompto fumble with words as he holds the ring in his hand.

'I'll be here waiting until the day you come back.'

The tears start to fall when he opens his fingers to gaze at it, and Gladio starts crying too, because his entire life is standing in front of him, broken and fleeting. Prompto pulls him down into a kiss, desperate and sorrowful all wrapped in one and then he leaves Gladio there on the overlook.

And as he watches him go, he knows he can’t stop him, but he’s never been as heartbroken as he is now.

* * *

Ignis returns from work the next morning, fully expecting two men in his bed. He’s mildly disappointed when he can only hear one set of snores. It takes him a moment, but then his gut drops when he remembers that Prompto was out on a hunt yesterday. It’s possible he never came back, he thinks, and he’s instantly kneeling on the bed, nudging Gladio awake. He pushes the fear down when he hears Gladio sit up.

‘Iggy?’ Gladio’s voice is nothing but a croak, and Ignis’ hands find Gladio’s face in the dark, feeling the confusion on his face, and raised tracks that signify tear trails. His gut tightens.

‘Gladio, where’s Prompto?’ He feels Gladio tense under him, and he fears the worst, but Gladio is quiet and resigned as he sighs.

‘He came back if that’s what you’re worried about.’ Ignis can feel the tightness in his gut dissipate slightly. There’s quiet once more, the only noise is labored breathing from Gladio, and Ignis has been with him long enough to know what that means. He feels Gladio’s brow furrow between his fingers, and he moves to wipe the tears from the corners of Gladio’s eyes. ‘Ignis, something was wrong with him.’ Gladio says. ‘He wasn’t -’ There’s a pause, and Ignis feels Gladio’s jaw tighten. ‘He wasn’t himself, Iggy. He said he needed to leave.’

‘Where is he now?’ Ignis asks, voice tight. Prompto hadn’t been himself for ten months, and Ignis was a fool for not confronting him about it earlier. He should’ve been by his side the moment he realized something was wrong, but work had gotten so out of hand and - no, there was no time for hindsight, he needed to find Prompto, he needed to know he was okay. ‘Where is he Gladio?’

Gladio’s breath hitches. ‘He said he was going to Hammerhead.’ Gladio whispers into his hand and Ignis is confused.

‘Hammerhead?’ He stares down at where he knows Gladio is, and hopes that Gladio is looking at him in return. ‘What happened yesterday?’ Gladio’s hands come up to rest on the ones that are framing his face. He feels Gladio’s face twitch and his jaw start to shake. He brings a thumb up to feel Gladio’s lower lip, and it’s quivering. ‘Please, talk to me Gladiolus.’

‘I was waiting for him when he came back from the hunt.’ Gladio says, and Ignis can feel him turning his face away. He pulls him right back, keeping his hands firmly planted on either side of Gladio’s face. ‘I tried to hug him but he looked so scared of me.’ Gladio trembles beneath his fingers. He’s silent for a moment. ‘He said he heard voices, and I thought he meant Noct, but I don’t think that’s what he was talking about. There was just something _off_ about him. And then he just said he had to leave, that he couldn’t stand it here anymore.’ Gladio rushes to finish, and Ignis could feel the silent sobs beneath his fingers. He could practically feel Gladio breaking apart beneath his hands. ‘I miss him so much.’

‘I’m sure he misses you too.’ Ignis says, rolling over to lie next to Gladio, shoulder to shoulder. His hand finds Gladio’s hair, and he strokes it like he knows Prompto used to. ‘Give him some time Gladio, and he will come back.’

Gladio exhales a breath that Ignis didn’t know he had been holding in, and nods against his hand.

* * *

It’s four days and they still haven't heard anything from Hammerhead. Ignis is beside himself with worry, and he's one day away from marching his way to Hammerhead alone.

He’s pacing in the kitchen, thinking about where to search and what to bring when his phone rings from its place at the table. Amidst the chimes of the ringtone, the mechanical voice pipes up.

‘Call from Cindy Aurum.’ It says, and Ignis scrambles towards the phone, knocking over a chair in the process.

‘Cindy?’ He sounds so desperate and he knows it, but he’s so worried. He needs to know Prompto made it there safe. Maybe Cindy will let Ignis talk to him.

‘Hey Ignis.’ She pipes up from the other side of the phone, and his shoulders tense more than he knows is necessary. ‘I - uh - just wanted to let y’all know that Prompto’s over here at Hammerhead.’ He visibly sags at the mention of Prompto, slumping into a chair at the kitchen table. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair.

‘Thank the Six.’ Ignis says, then tenses. ‘Is he alright? He’s not badly injured is he?’

‘Nah, he’s fine. Paw-paw said he just needs some rest and then he’ll be right as rain.’

‘Right, thank you Cindy. May I speak with him?’ Ignis asks, and then he hears some shuffling from the other side of the phone.

‘He’s actually out on a hunt right now,’ She says, and Ignis knows that’s a lie, but he let’s it slide. ‘I reckon it’d be best to give him some space.’

‘Some space?’ Ignis repeats the words and they’re sour in his mouth. ‘What do you mean ‘some space’?’

‘I just mean,’ She stops and sighs deeply. She seems troubled. ‘He’s not in a great mindset right now. He’s.. not himself.’ And there are those words again, the same ones that Gladio had spoken four days ago, the one’s he realized were true ten months ago when he could feel Prompto flinch away every time Ignis touched him. He realized it when he heard him crying in the night, and when Prompto started refusing food and showers. Yeah, he knows that he’s been slowly regressing.

‘I know he’s not himself, Cindy.’ And Ignis restrains the urge to put more bite in his tone. ‘I’m well aware of that, and that’s why I - I want to -’

‘Ignis.’ Cindy says, and he stops. ‘He’s been through a lot, but he still loves y’all. He’ll come back when he’s ready.’ Ignis’ hands start to shake, but he knows she’s right.

‘And when will that be?’ He dares ask.

‘I don’t know, Ignis, but y’all talking to him ain’t gonna help nothing. If anything, it’ll make it worse. He needs time away, Ignis.’ There’s silence on the line for a moment before Cindy sighs again. ‘I’m gonna hang up now.’ And the line goes dead. Ignis is left with only the feeling of failure constricting his chest and the incessant beeping in his ear.

 _He needs space. He needs time._ Ignis thinks, and his own heart breaks in two. He can only imagine how Gladio feels.

* * *

‘I can’t do it anymore, Iris.’ Gladio says. It’s been a week since Prompto left and took Gladio’s entire heart with him. ‘I don’t know what to do.’ He feels so lost without him, like he had when he lost Noct seven years ago.

Iris sits across from him, nursing a beer and a bruised hand. She sips from the bottle and then leans back in her chair, fixing him with a curious look.

‘Have you ever played a game called ‘Greasy Leiden Watermelon’, Gladdy?’ And Gladio just looks at her. He can’t even be mad that she’s completely ignoring him because that sentence was so confusing that he doesn’t even know how to react.

‘No, why?’ He says, and she smiles.

‘It’s a pool game where you grease a watermelon and throw it into the pool. Whoever wrestles away the watermelon wins the game.’ And Iris takes another sip of her beer.

‘Okay? And?’

‘The more you try to grip the watermelon, the harder it is to hold onto, and it’ll just slip away. Y’know, because it’s all greasy.’

‘Are you subtly trying to tell me that Prompto’s a watermelon?’ He grins, imagining a watermelon with Prompto’s face on it, and, oh boy, how many drinks has he had so far? Iris pointedly ignores his question.

‘The way to win the game is to wait until everyone else has tried, because then the grease is on them instead of on the watermelon, and it’s easier to hold when there’s less grease.’ She nods the tip of her beer bottle at Gladio. ‘Patience, Gladdy. You need to wait until the grease is on everyone else. Or better yet, wait until the watermelon comes to you. Actually, scratch that, just wait until watermelon boy comes to you.’

‘How many beers have you had?'

‘Seven, but it was a solid analogy, so you can’t even be mad about it.’ And Gladio laughs for the first time since Prompto left, and the weight on his chest feels a little lighter. Iris is grinning across the table from him, and they clink their bottles together and chug.

'He'll come back.' She says when they finish, reaching for another. Gladio gives her a strict look, but she grins and opens the beer bottle, staring him straight in the eyes as she takes a sip. 'I know he loooooves you, but if you go to him before he's ready, you might find him slipping from you forever. That's why you have to give him time.'

As weird of an explanation as it was, it made sense to Gladio. It still hurts, and it might take some time to come to terms with this, but he’ll try his best to see it through to the end. He looks at Iris, he suddenly knows he has to wait. And he will wait, until Prompto makes his way back to him, until he can hold him in his arms and until he can tell Prompto how much he loves him. He will wait until the end of time if he has to, because Prompto is worth the wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBH I'm not too happy with how this chapter turned out, but I'm super tired today and this is probably the best I'm going to do for this chapter, so I hope you guys enjoyed it?


	7. Better Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter whew, I wanna thank everyone who commented, bookmarked, or left kudos. It's been such a pleasure writing this, and you all made it such a pleasure to share! I hope that this chapter is the ending you all were looking forward too!

The reunion doesn't happen for three years. Gladio's spent the last three years training, pushing himself to the limit, and he’s got a couple new scars to prove it. And he’s so ready when Cindy calls him, explains that it’s time, that Prompto is finally ready, and Gladio feels like the luckiest man in the world.

It’s been three years since they’d seen each other, and ten since Noct disappeared into the crystal. Their first meeting is at Takka’s, and Gladio is overwhelmed to see him. Prompto’s grown over these three years, filling out at the shoulders, and even going so far as to grow some facial hair. He looks better than he ever did in Lestallum but he still looks tired, like something's troubling him.

The table is quiet, with Prompto just picking at his nails and Gladio watching him solemnly. This feels like a better time than ever to talk about what happened, but Gladio can’t get the nerve to ask. Ignis is outside talking with Cindy, and he has Prompto all by himself.

He opens his mouth to speak, but then shuts it when Prompto glances up at him from underneath those long eyelashes. Still just as beautiful as ever, Gladio thinks, and his chest clenches. He stares as his hands under the table.

‘I’m sorry’ Prompto says, voice small and soft, like he’s afraid of something, like he's afraid of Gladio. He flinches when Gladio whips up to stare at him.

‘Why are you apologizing Prom?’ He barely keeps himself from saying ‘sunshine’ because he doesn’t know if it’s still okay to use pet names. He doesn’t know if they’re still together. He doesn’t know what was haunting Prompto in the first place. They haven’t talked in three years.

‘For leaving like I did.’ Prompto says, and his voice breaks a little. ‘I didn’t want to leave, but I couldn’t stand it.’

‘Couldn’t stand what Prompto? Please, I need you to talk to me.’ He places his hand on the table, palm up and offering, and he smiles through the sadness as Prompto holds his hand, just like he used to, before all of this.

‘He just wouldn’t leave me alone.’ He whispers, and Gladio has to lean in to hear it. ‘It just went on for so long, and I was just starting to hate myself more and more because of _him_.’ Prompto spits venomously, and Gladio’s stomach twists. ‘He just wouldn’t leave, and he kept touching me, and I was so scared to tell you because I thought you’d think I was crazy.’ And Prompto goes silent, and Gladio can hear him try to control his breathing. He sounds like he going to cry.

When he finally finds his voice, he asks ‘Who was touching you, Prompto?’ Prompto flinches, and Gladio squeezes his hand reassuringly. But the answer is more horrifying than Gladio could ever imagine.

_‘Ardyn.’_

* * *

Gladio had already wanted to rip that shitbag apart, limb from limb, for what he did to Noct, but now he wants to put him back together and tear him up a second time when he hears the torment Prompto endured at the hands of that sick fuck. Thinking about the mental torture he went through by himself makes Gladio sick. He should’ve been there, he should’ve realized what was happening, and he should’ve protected him from it somehow.

He’s brought back when Prompto squeezes his hand and plays with his fingers. He’s brought back to the present, and he’s here, he’s safe, and Gladio thanks the Six that his sunshine is okay. He feels Prompto’s hands on his face before he recognizes the feelings of tears on his cheeks.

‘I’m sorry.’ Prompto’s face is bunched around the eyes, drawn tight in a sorrowful frown. His fingers dance over Gladio’s cheeks, wiping the tears away. ‘I didn’t mean to make you cry.’ He says, and Gladio leans into his hands. Gods, it’s been years, and he was sure he’d never feel those fingers on him ever again.

‘It’s over now.’ Prompto whispers, and Gladio looks into his blue eyes, wondering how one person could be so beautiful. ‘I won’t let him hurt me anymore.’

Gladio just smiles. Prompto survived. He’s here now, and he’s so strong.

His phone rings, and he laments when he has to pull away from Prompto to grab it from his pocket.

‘It’s Talcott.’ He’s says when he reads the caller ID. He puts on a brave face and answers it. ‘Captain Amicitia speaking.’

‘Captain Amicitia, sir. He’s back. Noct is back.’

* * *

The reunion is tear jerking and the last battle is rough, but when the dust settles and the sun rises, Noct is gone forever.

Ignis sits at Noct’s side, holding his cold face in his hands. He’s crying in pain, and Gladio can’t bear to watch his best friend suffer through this.

So he leaves Ignis with their king and goes to find his new life.

He’s sitting on the steps of the Citadel, watching the sun rise when Gladio finds him. He’s crying, but he makes no effort to wipe them away. He just sits there in agony and watches as the sun comes up for the first time in ten years.

‘It’s over now, isn’t it?’ Prompto says as he looks over his shoulder at Gladio. ‘He’s really gone, isn’t he?’ He sobs, and Gladio says nothing. Prompto already knows the answer to that question. The sun casts an orange glow over both of them and Prompto turns back to watch it rise.

Gladio watches it from his spot against the door, watches as Prompto buries his face in his arms and sobs.

‘You can go see him if you want.’ Gladio says, but Prompto shakes his head.

‘I can’t. I wouldn’t even know what do say.’

‘You were his best friend. You don’t have to say anything.’ And Prompto’s shoulders shake with the force of his crying. Gladio moves to sit on the steps as well, a few feet away from Prompto. He gives him space. ‘Y’know,’ He starts, and waits for Prompto to look up from his arms. ‘A wise man once told me that it’s okay to mourn.’ It takes Prompto a minute, but then he’s smiling sadly and elbowing Gladio.

‘I said that to you, you big dummy.’ Prompto says, but then they both go silent, watching the pinks and purples dance across the sky for minutes.

‘You were my reason for living.’ Gladio says finally, and Prompto turns to him, face illuminated by the sun. His hair is golden and his freckles stand out, and Gladio is beside himself. He thought he’d never see this again, this beautiful, smart, golden being before him. ‘Every time I was lost, every time I faltered, I looked to you and you brought me back.’ And his lip is quivering now as he thinks about their seven years together and their three years apart.

Prompto is quiet by his side, and then he scoots closer to Gladio to grasp his hand. ‘Sorry.’ And Gladio smiles.

‘You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, Prom.’ He says, but Prompto shakes his head.

‘I hurt you.’ Prompto brings Gladio’s hand into his lap, and he squeezes around Gladio’s fingers. ‘I never wanted to, I just -’ And he stops, bringing Gladio’s hand up to his forehead and cradling it there. His tears return, and he sobs. ‘I’m so sorry.’

Prompto cries against Gladio’s hand, but the sun is back. Prompto looks gorgeous in the light.

‘Prompto,’ Gladio starts, and he feels Prompto sniffle against his hand. ‘I accept your apology.’ And he moves the hand that’s against Prompto’s forehead to his cheek, tilting his chin towards him, watching as those baby blue eyes find his. ‘But I want you to know that I was never angry because you left. You have been the center of my world since that train ride from Gralea, and as long as you will have me, I promise that will not change.’

Prompto starts to argue, but Gladio shushes him with a finger against his lips. ‘I was never mad at you.’ He says quietly, and Prompto watches him. ‘I was only mad at myself for not being there when you needed me.’ And he thinks about the ten months Prompto went through hell and everything he could’ve done differently. ‘I knew something was wrong, and I should’ve been the one to help you, but all I did was cause more pain, and I will never forgive myself for that.’

Prompto is quiet, and then he starts to smile.

‘I forgive you.’ He says, and he reaches up to wipe his own tears away. ‘I - I’ll forgive you for you, if you forgive me for me.’ He squeezes Gladio’s hand tightly, and Gladio smiles.

‘Sounds like a deal.’ Gladio says.

The silence is comfortable with the weight of Prompto’s head on his shoulder, their fingers intertwined and their eyes on the blue expanse of sky, and suddenly Prompto is pulling him to his feet. They stand at the top of the Citadel steps, and Prompto steps closer to him.

‘Close your eyes.’ Prompto whispers, so he does. There’s the sound of ruffled clothing and metal against metal. Lithe fingers grab his wrist, pulling it up to stay outstretched in front of him, palm up, and then Prompto drops cool metal onto his palm and closes his fingers around it.

And when he opens his eyes, Prompto is standing in front of him. The sunlight turns his hair golden, his eyes are the color of the sky, and he’s smiling like the sun. The brass ring in his hand burns fire into his palm.

‘Do it like you mean it.’ Prompto says. Gladio tears up through a smile and drops to a knee in front of him.

'Will you marry me, Sunshine?' And when Prompto nods, he cries tears of joy and slips the ring onto his slender finger. It’s a perfect fit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading!


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